


Christmas Vacation

by princelogical



Series: Sanders Sides Misc. Work [26]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Logan is a cruel sort of beautiful.





	Christmas Vacation

Logan is a cruel sort of beautiful. Captivating. Gorgeous. Talkative. Intelligent. He smooths his collar too many times to be considered appropriate. He laughs at jokes you know he doesn’t understand. He makes jokes and the room goes quiet but you laugh so maybe his smile will come back on.

Logan’s gorgeous when he smiles. His eyes shine and the corners of his mouth upturn into something smug, something secretive, and something cocky and delicious. You wonder, late at night, holding onto your pillows, how his smile would feel against your lips if you were to make him laugh mid-kiss.

But Logan is a cruel sort of beautiful in that he’s in another galaxy. He’s another dimension of colour- one with darker palletes, softer voices, quiet typing, and words you cannot begin to comprehend. He’s complex reasoning that goes over your head, 9-5s, and staying home to grade papers. 

God, you wish that wasn’t so alluring. The crackle of a fireplace and gentleness of podcasts floating through his parent’s living room as he taps on a keyboard, eyes fluttering closed with a sleepiness so soft and lovely, you want to bottle it up and gift it to him every Christmas. 

Logan’s the play-it-safe-but-not-unreasonably-so kind of guy. You’re the rush-into-danger-with-your-eyes-closed-and-hands-tied kind of guy. These worlds do not collide. They are separate divine forces of nature that cannot work together. 

Then it’s five in the morning, you’re awake, staring at the fireplace. Holding coffee in your hands, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip. The room’s gone cold. Logan’s laptop sits across from you, cast aside by its owner for the sake of sleep. Logan himself sleeps soundly, smushed into a pillow, glasses on the floor. 

He mumbles something in his sleep about caramel and oxymorons. Then he awakes all at once and asks what you’re doing. You tell him you cannot sleep. He grumbles something and sets aside his glasses. Then, he lays on your lap like a pillow and tells you to rest. 

Throwing your head back against the back of the couch, you curse out the universe for dropping diamonds into your lap and then telling you that you will never be worthy to touch them.


End file.
